Not Altogether Respectable
by sheofthebookandsong
Summary: Alfred/Drummond. We know that Lord Alfred Paget and Edward Drummond went for a very relaxed swim with Prince Albert in France - but what happened after that that wasn't 'altogether respectable? Set in Episode 2x05. Almost pure fluff, with some slight angst and some vague hints of sexual tension.


Still soaking wet, Edward laughed as he shivered violently in the sunlight, unable to stop

himself from grinning at Alfred as the other man did the same.

He couldn't help himself - he adored being around Alfred, he looked forward to seeing his

face light up, hearing the sound of his laugh - even just being around him made Edward

feel more at ease. He didn't know why this was, exactly. He just breathed easier when he

knew that Alfred was there, his tension disappeared - he felt that there was somebody else

who understood him. Edward was so used to feeling different to everyone around him - he

had always been extremely cautious, feeling that he had some secret to protect, though he

was unable to put a name to it. He had felt alone in hiding this secret for so long - but as

soon as he first saw Alfred, as soon as Alfred sent him that knowing half-smirk across the

room, he knew that Alfred understood, that Alfred knew what it was to keep part of yourself

hidden.

It was as if both of them had this strange secret, and they knew that the other knew it - and

yet they were not able to discuss this secret with each other, they couldn't fully

acknowledge it.

They were friends, the best of friends, and Edward felt immensely lucky to have this

closeness and intimacy that he had never felt with anyone before, certainly not anyone of

the fairer sex. And yet - there was something missing. It felt ridiculous and ungrateful even

thinking that, particularly as he couldn't even explain adequately - or at least acceptably -

 _what_ it was that was lacking between them. But he couldn't deny that he felt _something_ , a

warm kind of yearning feeling every time Alfred smirked, or winked, or laughed, or gave him

that frank and open look, letting his smooth and polite courtier's mask fall away for a

second. Sometimes, Edward caught himself staring at Alfred for a split second too long,

watching him as he stretched his arm back on the archery field, the muscles rippling, or as

he leaned nonchalantly against the wall, arms folded, or as he absentmindedly pushed his

blonde hair out of his eyes. At these times, some burning feeling seemed to rise up in him

and he had to fight down a bizarre and utterly unacceptable impulse to reach out and touch

Alfred's face, to sweep his hair out of his eyes, to place a hand on the other man's shirt

and feel the heartbeat under his palm. Reluctant to question his own feelings any further, all

Edward knew was that he needed to be close to Alfred, physically close to him, feel the

warmth of his body beside him.

Not being able to find any acceptable excuse for such closeness, however, Edward had

spent the past few months resigning himself to the fact that he would have to keep his

distance.

So, when His Royal Highness, Prince Albert, had suddenly decreed on this diplomatic trip

that he was going to take a swim in a beautiful French lake, sans clothes, it had seemed to

Edward a blessing too good to be true. It was as if the prince himself was giving them

permission to relax, to let down their guard for once, to discard not only their clothes but the

careful and dignified facades which they constantly had to wear around court. The Prince's

reckless, naked, uncivilised and unrespectable leap into the cool and sparkling lake made

it seem like anything was possible. After all, they were not in London - something about the

French court felt more daring and wanton than its English counterpart.

Edward had looked across at Alfred as soon as the prince had stripped off and dived into

the lake, a great feeling of recklessness spreading over him.

"Shall we?" he asked, attempting to speak casually without letting his excitement show. As

Alfred gazed back at him, Edward saw his own eagerness reflected in Alfred's bright blue

eyes.

"I don't see why not!", the other man had responded laughingly.

Edward had barely taken his eyes from Alfred as they stripped, so giddy and excited that

he could not contain his grin. He could barely believe he was being given this chance to

see Alfred in such a natural, unguarded and playful state - finally he felt that he could truly

see what was beneath the surface.

Shivering in the cold water, Edward had looked around to see where Alfred had got to, and

immediately had felt the warmth of Alfred's bare skin on his as the blonde man playfully

began to wrestle with him. Laughing gleefully, he had enthusiastically joined in. As the pair

splashed each other in the early evening sunlight, it seemed for a few glorious minutes as if

the rest of the world had gone quiet and peaceful - Alfred's beautiful smile was all that

Edward could see. Being there with Alfred, skin touching skin - somehow, Edward knew

that it felt right.

All too soon, however, Edward found himself called back to reality by Prince Albert's voice,

as though from a long distance away, calling for them all to get back before they were

missed. Glancing at each other, a world of meaning in one look, Edward and Alfred

reluctantly got out of the water - they could hardly keep frolicking, carefree, without the

company of the princes. As they pulled on their clothes, shivering yet still unable to keep

from laughing with giddiness and excitement, Edward found it near impossible to tear his

gaze away from Alfred. Something had shifted between them, he felt it, he saw it in the

other man's eyes.

He was pulled out of his reverie by a polite and somewhat uncomfortable cough. The

cough was Prince Albert's, clearly trying to attract their attention - and as Edward turned

around to look at him, ready to apologise for his inattentiveness, he caught a brief glance

between Prince Albert and his brother Ernest. Though fleeting, the look made Edward's

heart sink momentarily. There was a mutual unspoken unease and awkwardness

communicated between the princes, as though they had noticed a strange intimacy and joy

between the other men that was unusual between friends.

Edward began to panic slightly - he did not know how to describe his relationship with

Alfred even to himself, much less to anyone else, much less to these powerful men with

such influence. He chanced a look at Alfred, who met his eyes - it was clear from Alfred's

warning gaze that he, too, had noticed the princes' unease. Quickly, the two men looked

away from each other, Alfred covering the uncomfortable moment with his usual courtier's

flair, jovially addressing the two princes. Albert and Ernest seemed to relax somewhat with

Alfred's words, laughing as he joked about what on earth the Duchess of Buccleuch would

say about their dripping wet appearance.

Though extremely grateful for Alfred's quick thinking and charm, Edward still couldn't help

feeling a little unnerved. He couldn't put a name to whatever was happening between him

and Alfred, but he did know on some level that whatever he was feeling would be

considered wrong, abnormal, even perverse, if anybody found out. Especially if they knew

what Edward was barely able to admit to himself - that the thought of going home to

Florence, marrying her and lying with her, filled him with dread, while the thought of staying

alone with just Alfred filled him with warmth and a tingling feeling of excitement.

It was rapidly becoming impossible to deny to himself that his feelings for Alfred were

dangerous. Although swimming in the lake with him had made Edward happier and more

relaxed than he could ever remember being - not least because Alfred had seemed just as

excited as him - the uneasy look between Princes Albert and Ernest was a grim and

unwelcome reminder for Edward. He simply could not afford to give anyone any reason to

believe that he and Lord Alfred were anything more than ordinary male friends, smoking

cigars and chatting casually about politics and the charms of women.

Edward followed the other men back to the sumptuous palace in silence, listening to Albert

and Ernest's chatter and doing his best to maintain a distance from Alfred despite his

body's overwhelming instinct to stay close to him.

Once at the palace, the princes strode straight in, Albert muttering something about

changing out of his wet clothes before Victoria got back from the lawn party. Edward made

to follow them - but once Albert and Ernest were out of earshot, Alfred reached out to stop

Edward with a gentle hand on his shoulder. To any onlookers, it would have merely

appeared a casual, thoughtless gesture - but Edward felt it as a very deliberate touch, and

his heart instantly skipped a beat. Brown eyes met blue, and Edward tried very hard to

appear for all the world as if their interaction was of little interest or importance.

"Care for a cigar, Drummond?", Alfred asked in an all-too-casual tone, his voice completely

at odds with the way his eyes flashed at Edward from beneath his eyelashes.

Edward swallowed, wondering yet again how one sentence and one smirking look from

Alfred could have such a ridiculous effect on him.

Struggling to keep his voice as impressively steady and disinterested as Alfred's had been,

he responded, hoping desperately that Alfred would grasp the deeper meaning behind his

own words.

"Certainly, Lord Alfred. I wouldn't go anywhere without my trusty tinderbox."

Alfred grinned that delicious grin at him, the one that hinted at a secret that only the pair of them knew.

As they had done in Buckingham Palace months before, the pair retired to a balcony

looking out over the palace grounds - only this time they were looking out over one of

France's most beautiful estates, rather than England's. The sun was gradually setting,

staining the horizon with astoundingly beautiful pink and gold. Turning to look at Alfred,

Edward found himself almost struck speechless. It was hard enough at the best of times to

look away from him - but now, in the setting sun, his golden hair gleamed, the play of light

on his face made his beautiful pale eyelashes stand out even more than usual. Every inch

of him was bathed in the warm light - he looked, Edward thought foolishly to himself, like

an Adonis.

As Edward held out his tinderbox so that Alfred could light his cigar with it, Alfred spoke up.

"That was certainly an….intriguing experience this afternoon, wouldn't you say,

Drummond?" His voice was light, teasing, but his deep blue eyes smouldered at Edward.

Edward's breath caught in his throat and he fumbled somewhat with his tinder box - he lit

his own cigar and took a puff on it before responding to Alfred, attempting to give himself

some time to think and appear less of an idiot. Judging by the somewhat irritating but no

less arousing smirk on Alfred's face, however, he had not actually succeeded in anything

except looking even more like a swooning idiot.

"Yes, it was indeed most….illuminating, Lord Alfred", he responded, wondering as he gazed

into Alfred's face if there was any possibility that he had remotely the same dazzling effect

on the shorter blonde man as Alfred had on him.

For a few moments - or perhaps it was a few hours - the two of them stared at each other,

drinking each other in. As they looked at each other, it felt like the rest of the world had

once again fallen away, like an eternity held in a second. When Alfred suddenly spoke in

his deep, warm voice, it felt to Edward like a sudden jolt, as if some kind of hypnotising

spell had been broken. He mentally shook himself, once again irritated and bewildered at

this all-encompassing effect Alfred had on him. Having chastised himself, he suddenly

realised that he had heard the comforting sound of Alfred's voice, but hadn't actually taken

in a word he had said.

"I - I'm sorry, could you possibly repeat? I…." He could feel his face burning with

embarrassment, and cursed himself again for appearing so ridiculous, but Alfred merely

laughed his beautiful, warm, affectionate laugh.

"I said, Drummond, that perhaps we should take the chance for a little stroll", Alfred said.

"These are, after all, remarkably beautiful grounds, and I should like the chance to

be….illuminated on them further, before I return to London with the Queen. That is, if you

would care to join me. I feel I should look rather a lonely fool if I took a stroll alone."

Edward stared at him. What, exactly, was he suggesting? Searching Alfred's face, he saw

not just the usual amusement and affection in his eyes, but a hint of something else

Edward often felt in himself - vulnerability, self-doubt. They had both stripped off their

clothing earlier to jump in the lake, but now Alfred seemed to be laying himself bare in a

different way. Edward felt a gush of affection for the other man, stronger than he had ever

felt before.

Hesitating before answering, he struggled to remember that he must still address Alfred

formally, as one friendly courtier would address another. Instinctively, Edward looked

around before answering.

"Certainly, Lord Alfred, a stroll in this balmy air would be extremely pleasant", he responded

carefully. "But - surely we would be missed by the queen? We cannot just abandon her

over dinner, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly."

They both knew that the petite queen would likely be too absorbed in political negotiations

with the French king to spare much thought for them. Though he dared not say it outright,

what Edward actually meant with his words, and what he hoped Alfred understood, was

that they could not risk anybody noticing that they were both mysteriously missing from the

table at the same time. Not when all of the queen's entourage was supposed to be at

dinner. And especially not when they had already caught a suspicious and uneasy look

between the princes earlier that day.

Alfred smiled back at him, clearly catching the meaning behind his words. "Well now, I

certainly didn't mean to suggest that we should abandon the poor queen over dinner, that

would be most ungracious", he said smoothly. "I rather thought we should wait until our

duties are fully concluded for the day, when we are no longer needed - what say you we

meet under this very balcony after nightfall? Say, at midnight?"

Edward closed his eyes briefly as a heady current of desire rushed through him. Alfred had

not even suggested anything except a night time walk, but his words spoken in that deep

and warm voice, the spiralling scent of the cigars, and the suggestive glint in Alfred's eyes

as Edward met his gaze again, were all combining to make him somewhat dizzy. It was

difficult to think straight.

 _We shouldn't_ , a small voice at the back of his head whispered. _It's stupid, it's reckless_

… _._ But he knew, deep down - and he was sure Alfred did too - that it was no good

pretending to themselves anymore. It was far too late, and he was in far too deep. And he

wanted this. He wanted it so badly. He cleared his throat and tried his best to keep his

voice steady and free of the emotion that was threatening to overcome him.

"Very well - midnight, then, Lord Alfred."

Alfred's face cleared of anxiety and, very quickly, he winked at Edward, as he had done

once before when pondering their mutual inability to understand the fairer sex. Then,

clearly preparing to go back inside and face the rest of the court, Alfred's flirtatious

expression completely disappeared, replaced with an expression of casual friendliness. He

bowed his head.

"Very good, Drummond."

A few hours later, Edward was pacing up and down inside the bedchamber he had been

assigned. He was anxious, on high alert, waiting until the sounds of footsteps and

murmuring voices outside had completely ceased, and obsessively checking his pocket

watch for the time. He needed to leave very soon if he wanted to meet Alfred on time, in the

agreed spot. Part of his brain was tensely going over all the possible ways in which this

rendezvous could go wrong, the various people who might catch them or stop them with

awkward questions. Another part of him was worrying that he had got everything all wrong,

that he had misinterpreted Alfred's request for a stroll as something more meaningful than

it actually was. This waiting was agony.

Finally, after what felt like hours, the footsteps outside faded away. Opening the door a tiny

crack to check the coast was clear, Edward could see nothing but a dark and abandoned

corridor. Inhaling deeply, and reminding himself that it was now or never, he silently slipped

out of his room.

Shivering slightly as he stood under the balcony waiting, Edward tried to relax. But he

couldn't help wondering why midnight had passed, nearly a quarter of an hour ago, and

Alfred had still not come to meet him as he had promised. Had he decided against it,

decided that Edward was not worth the risk? Or even worse - had he been intercepted and

interrogated on his way?

Edward closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing - and, out of nowhere, a hand

grasped his shoulder. He jumped a foot in the air before hearing the beautifully warm and

familiar laugh of Alfred himself.

"That was too easy, Drummond, really it was."

Though embarrassed at himself, Edward couldn't stop himself from laughing along with the

other man, relief seeping through him. He grinned, drinking in the sight of Alfred.

"What kept you?"

"My apologies", Alfred responded, sounding genuinely contrite even though his deep voice

was still tinged with amusement, "but it occurred to me that we might want some

sustenance to take with us." He lifted up a huge picnic basket, opening the lid to show

Edward the foods that were packed to the brim within it.

Edward gaped at the sight of mouthwatering French pastries, juicy cuts of pheasant and

chicken, creamy cheeses, oysters - there was even a bottle of champagne tucked away in

there.

"But how….?"

"Oh, it was quite simple, you know. Just a last-minute idea I had of bribing some of the

kitchen maids. They were really very accommodating." Edward's brief flash of jealousy

must have shown on his face, for Alfred shook his head, adding "I only meant that I bribed

them with money, Drummond. Who did you think you were talking to, Prince Ernest?"

Edward laughed in relief as Alfred continued to look at him with exasperated affection. "No,

Lord Alfred. I really wouldn't say that you have very much in common with His Highness

Prince Ernest," he responded, thinking of the queen's womanising brother-in-law.

Alfred grinned. "I can't help it if the maids happen to find me charming. But I fear my tastes

may perhaps run a little differently."

He fixed Edward with an intense look, which Edward found he had to look away from after

a few seconds - it was like looking at the sun. As so often happened when he was around

this man, he felt slightly delirious - his brain seemed reluctant to focus on forming coherent

sentences.

"Well, come along then, Lord Alfred", he said, grinning slightly. "After all, you've brought this

remarkable feast - surely we'll find _something_ that will appeal to your tastes."

Alfred laughed, sounding both taken aback and pleased - Edward was not normally quite

so forward. Seemingly casual conversation laden with innuendos was usually Alfred's forte.

Edward grinned again, elated to have taken Alfred by surprise, and to have discovered that

the other man seemed to enjoy this slightly bolder side. He found that he was even

beginning to take himself by surprise with his newfound confidence. Reaching out to take

hold of the heavy picnic basket dangling from Alfred's arm, Edward's hand brushed against

Alfred's just the tiniest bit, and he felt his skin immediately begin to tingle with electricity.

Alfred jumped back slightly as though he hadn't been expecting the contact, and Edward

distinctly heard him draw in a steadying breath. He looked up into Alfred's face - the blonde

was looking vulnerable again, embarrassed by his reaction to Edward's very slight touch.

Edward tried his best not to smirk. He himself had been blatantly obvious often enough

about how much he was in Alfred's thrall - it was somewhat intoxicating to know that he

could produce a similar effect.

"I was only going to suggest that I could help you carry the basket, Lord Alfred. There is an

awful lot in there", he said quietly. Without taking his eyes away from Alfred's beautiful blue

gaze, he slowly and deliberately reached out his hand again, and placed it gently but firmly

over Alfred's on the basket. They looked at each other, silently acknowledging that

whatever they were doing, there was no turning back from it. Alfred gestured with his head

towards the moonlit grounds, and, hands still clasped over the basket, they set off down

the path.

It was odd, Edward thought to himself. How overwhelmingly intimate and peaceful it felt,

just to be strolling along the grounds, carrying a picnic basket together in companionable

silence, shooting looks at each other and grinning abashedly when they caught each other

staring.

He revelled in the soft breeze on his face, the smell of the grass, and especially the feeling

of Alfred's warm and smooth hand under his own. He felt as if all of his senses were more

finely tuned tonight than ever before. With nobody else anywhere to be seen, he and Alfred

were in a little world of their own, and he was determined to cling onto it while he could.

Stopping at a flat patch of grass which afforded them a sweeping view over the rest of the

grounds, they lowered the picnic basket together, hands lingering together for longer than

was strictly necessary.

Edward sat down and closed his eyes, wanting to lose himself in the peaceful moment.

After a moment, however, he realised Alfred was still standing over him. He opened his

eyes and looked up at the blonde, tilting his head quizzically. Alfred had that endearingly

familiar look he got when he had spotted a problem, and was trying to figure out what to do.

Edward had often seen that look, when Prince Albert was excitedly exclaiming about some

new idea he and Peel were planning to bring to the queen's attention, and Alfred was

hesitantly trying to think of a way to politely warn them that their ideas would actually make

the headstrong queen furious.

"What is it, Lord Alfred?" he asked teasingly. "I know that look."

Looking increasingly frustrated with himself, Alfred responded "It's just….I went to all that

effort to pack us a feast, and I completely forgot to bring a blanket! We have nothing to sit

on except the ground!"

Edward stared at him for a second, and then burst out laughing. Alfred looked bewildered at

this reaction.

"Is that really all there is, Alfred?", Edward sniggered, forgetting in his amused affection to

add the prefix 'Lord' that he always used when addressing the other man in society.

Alfred's blue eyes widened in indignation, which did nothing to stop Edward's giggling.

"Well, we can't just sit down on the ground", Alfred countered defensively. "We'd completely

wrinkle our clothing and we would get dirt on our...on our…" Alfred seemed, for once, to be

lost for words.

Edward rolled his eyes, grinning. Being only the son of a middle-class banker, and having

worked his own way up to being the Prime Minister's private secretary and thus earned an

invitation into court circles, he occasionally forgot just how much of an aristocrat Alfred was.

Alfred had been a fixture of the lavish royal court for so long, and his parents had taught

him about it for so long before that, that courtly etiquette and style was second nature to

him. Of course he was kind and thoughtful and compassionate to others, and he certainly

wasn't above creating a little mischief, as Edward knew. But it couldn't be denied that Alfred

had a great appreciation for material things such as expensive clothing, which Edward

rarely concerned himself with more than absolutely necessary. It was also thoroughly

amusing to Edward that, despite Alfred's frequent pointed innuendos, his dignified

aristocratic upbringing meant that he couldn't bring himself to straightforwardly name

certain body parts.

"Well then, _my lord_ ", he teased pointedly, earning himself a look from Alfred that was both

indignant and amusedly sheepish, "if the thought of sitting on the ground is really so deeply

offensive to you, I suggest we make do with an impromptu blanket." In response to Alfred's

look of confusion, Edward swiftly took off his tailcoat and swept it neatly onto the ground.

Alfred stared at him. "Edward, you can't be serious."

He grinned, relishing the fact that Alfred, seemingly without even realising it, had called him

intimately by his first name, rather than addressing him formally as 'Drummond' as he

usually did.

"Why would I not be serious?", he asked, sitting himself down upon his tailcoat in an

ungainly manner and patting the space beside him.

"Well, for one thing, you'll get your coat filthy"...Edward rolled his eyes once more. "Yes, a

tragedy indeed", he teased.

Alfred still looked hesitant, but Edward had had enough of this dancing around each other

all the time. After all, he would have to go home to Florence soon enough (he tried to

repress the painful thought as soon as it came to him), and if this was the only time he was

going to have alone with Alfred, without the watchful eyes of the court upon them forcing

him to conceal his affection - well then, he damned well wasn't going to let the obstacle of a

muddy coat foil him.

Impatiently, he reached up and tugged, hard, on the bottom of Alfred's expensive tailcoat.

Taken completely by surprise, Alfred tumbled down, most uncharacteristically and

gracelessly. Laughing at how ridiculous Alfred looked, Edward was suddenly cut off by

Alfred's landing right on top of him.

He barely had time to register the amazingly pleasant feeling of Alfred's warm body in his

lap before Alfred had scrambled off of him, his face more adorably flushed than Edward

had ever seen it.

"I would apologise for crushing you", Alfred near stammered, "but it seems, Edward, that

you are determined to rob me of any remaining dignity I possess."

Edward grinned at him, again astonishing himself with how lighthearted and daring he felt.

"No need to apologise, Alfred. I actually rather enjoyed the experience."

Alfred seemed struck speechless for a moment, gazing open-mouthed at him until Edward

began to worry he had ruined everything and crossed some sort of line. There was shock

written across Alfred's face, but there was something else too that Edward couldn't

precisely identify - something akin to hunger. Finally, Alfred spoke, sounding more sincere

and less teasing than Edward had ever heard him.

"Well, I suppose if I were to be completely honest - I rather enjoyed it as well."

Edward smiled at him, and they sat in silence for a few moments, Edward feeling more

understood and loved than he had ever felt before. Tearing his gaze reluctantly away from

Alfred, he spoke, unable to keep the joy from his voice.

"Now, about this feast…."

Together, they unpacked the delicious array of food and drink. Edward poured out a glass

of champagne for each of them - they toasted each other and drank, making Edward feel

somehow even more lightheaded than before. Tasting an oyster, Alfred made a face of

melodramatic rapture that sent Edward into a giggling fit, likely assisted by the champagne

he had drunk.

"Edward, you simply have to try this", he declared.

"What?"

He suddenly found Alfred mere inches away from his face, holding out the oyster shell.

"Taste", he commanded in a voice that was almost a whisper. Trying to ignore the sudden

flare of warmth in his stomach that accompanied Alfred's closeness, Edward obeyed,

sucking the juice from the oyster without taking his eyes away from the other man's. Alfred

sat back and watched him intently as he swallowed.

"Well?"

Edward felt both emotionally and physically overwhelmed, in the best way possible, and he

struggled to form a coherent answer.

"I think….we certainly are eating like princes tonight, Alfred."

Alfred grinned.

"Eating like princes tonight, swimming like princes yesterday."

Edward grinned too, remembering Prince Albert's reckless decision that had encouraged

them to follow suit, leading to….this.

"Yes, that was quite the remarkable experience."

"Although rather cold", Alfred responded. "Almost as cold as you look right now, Edward."

It was true that sacrificing his tailcoat as a picnic blanket was causing Edward to shiver

more than a little in the cool night air.

"No, really, I'm fine", he protested - but before he knew it, he was being gently wrapped up

next to Alfred, as the other man tried to envelop both of them in his own coat.

"We'll share", Alfred murmured.

Edward would have at least tried to protest, but he found that his throat was too tight with

emotion. He was nestled there, tucked in tightly next to Alfred's body, and he had never felt

warmer or safer.

The two men closed their eyes and sat there in peaceful silence, listening to the quiet

sound of each other's breathing.

This was their moment, Edward knew that. He only wished it could be their forever.

But time flew past, no matter how much you willed it to stay still. It seemed to Edward only

a moment later that he and Alfred were juddering along back to London, crammed tightly

into a carriage with the cantankerous Duchess of Buccleuch and her sweet but naive nice,

Wilhelmina.

It was a very small carriage for four people and they were all crammed in together quite

tightly. This presented quite a problem for Edward, who had somehow found himself

jammed next to Alfred. He had already spent what felt like hours trying desperately not to

reach out and stroke Alfred's hand, though every inch of his body and mind seemed

desperate to betray him in front of the Duchess and her niece. Alfred occasionally shot him

a look warning him to be careful - but on the other hand, some of his glances failed to

convey caution, but simply reflected his own longing back at him. _This is torture_ , Edward

thought as he tried to force his hands to remain clasped in his own lap, attempting to

distract himself by listening to the Duchess's diatribe against the French and their evil

ways.

"What about you, Drummond? What did you think?" Alfred's tone was carefully indifferent,

but his blue eyes gleamed teasingly at Edward.

 _Don't tease him back_ , Edward thought to himself. _This is getting ridiculous._ But then Alfred

smirked at him, and Edward's caution seemed to vanish as he thought, _To hell with it_.

"I agree with the Duchess", he responded, trying and failing to keep the joy in his voice

hidden. "The trip was stylish, but" - his dark gaze once more met Alfred's blue - "not

altogether respectable."

He couldn't help it. He grinned.


End file.
